


Loki of Mannelig

by silkyterrier34



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Marvel References, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Norse Religion & Lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29279700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkyterrier34/pseuds/silkyterrier34
Summary: Just as he planned, Loki survived getting his neck snapped, but he wakes up in an unfamiliar house on what turns out to be a long-lost planet. Things only get worse when there turns out to be no ships to get him to Midgard. Struggling to find a way home, he ends up befriending Sigyn, her giant sea serpent friend/pet, Odin's old executioner, and other citizens of the village known as Mannelig.However, the longer he stays, the more complicated things get. The planet holds many dangers that threaten the village and other peaceful settlements, and his experiences make him reevaluate his goals and feelings.
Relationships: Loki/Sigyn (Marvel)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	1. Year 1: Stranded

**Author's Note:**

> So I've actually had this idea since not long after Infinity War came out. I loved that movie! Endgame... not so much. (It actually killed my interest in the MCU for awhile.) This is an alternate universe where Loki really does fake his death, as this fanfic is about to show. I'd recommend (re)watching the little incident on the ship before you start reading this. It'll help you get a better idea of what's going on.
> 
> As always, comments are appreciated, and I really hope you enjoy!

“And for another… we have the Hulk.”

Loki didn’t even look to make sure the Hulk was actually charging towards Thanos. As soon as he heard the unmistakable roar, he dove for his brother, dropping the tesseract in the process. He barely noticed his error. That damn thing was proving to be more trouble than it was worth anyhow. All that mattered was that he and Thor didn’t die.

Thor was obviously unable to carry his own weight, so Loki had to half drag him behind a pile of rubble. Luckily, everyone was too focused on the Hulk pummeling Thanos to notice their escape. Loki took one look over their cover before sitting a recovering Thor up.

Already knowing the answer, he asked, “I don’t suppose you have an escape plan?”

Thor shook his head. With effort, he managed to say, “We can’t let him get the tesseract.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “We can’t win against them.” As he said this, Thanos had proceeded to pry away the arms keeping him pinned against the wall.

Glaring, Thor somehow managed to say with the authority of a king, “Run if you wish, but I stay until the end.”

Loki had no intention to leave Thor behind, but he knew that they were no match against Thanos. Thor might be willing to die in battle, but Loki wasn’t keen on becoming a mere speedbump on Thanos’ road to victory. Without the other Avengers, Thanos will soon be one stone closer to his goal. No, _if_ Loki was going to fight Thanos, it would have to be with more allies and weapons, and he just didn’t have that right now.

As Thor was gaining enough strength to get to his feet, the gears in Loki’s mind turned. There was a way to lose this battle without retreating or dying, but it would require the completion of a spell that even his mother didn’t dare cast. The risk had never been worth the reward to her, for if the spell was performed incorrectly, the caster would die. After a few moments of deliberation, he decided it was worth the risk now.

He grabbed Thor by the shoulders, trying to convey how serious his instructions were. “Brother, make sure no one distracts me from my spell, and be sure to be by my side when I wake up.” Though visibly confused, Thor nodded. Loki released him before sitting with his back against some rubble. He added, “And whatever you do, don’t die.”

Loki didn’t wait for a response, already preparing himself for the spell. He held his arms out like a preacher addressing his congregation as he quietly yet coherently spoke the words he had read in his mother’s study all those years ago. When his hands began to tingle, he continued to speak, but slowly brought them to his chest. He almost misspoke when intense pain made itself known over his heart. As the chant continued, the pain somewhat subsided, but a feeling of intense weakness spread from his chest to what felt like every single cell in his body.

Finished, Loki let his hands fall as he slumped over. Some of the pain had stayed in the form of a headache and he was out of breath, but at least he was alive. He slowly stood on shaky legs, using the rubble he had been sitting against to steady himself. The first thing he noticed was that Thor was no longer with him.

“NOOOOOO!” Thor screamed.

Loki peeked around the rubble to see Thor trapped and Thanos stabbing Heimdall. Well, he didn’t have time to mourn, but the fact he was dead and Thor couldn’t move posed a problem. Loki had counted on Thanos allowing Thor to live when he won. Unlike Loki, Thor had never failed him, and Thanos would no doubt be impressed with Thor’s fighting and courage. Not to mention, there was Thanos' obsession with equilibrium. If there are two brothers, he would only want to kill one.

He noticed the missing Hulk, and he recalled the sound of the Bifrost while he was chanting. It didn’t take long to put the pieces together as to what happened. Thor would definitely be left alive as long as he didn’t anger the titan. Thankfully, Thor was just gagged, stopping him from saying anything stupid.

Loki watched, regaining his composure and waiting for the right time to reveal himself. He found his opportunity when Thanos said, “There are two more stones on Earth. Find them, my children, and bring them to me on Titan.”

They kneeled before him. “Father, we will not fail you.”

Loki stepped out from his hiding place, making his way towards the group. “If I might… interject. If you’re going to Earth, you might want a guide. I do have a bit of experience in that arena.”

Thanos smiled mockingly. “If you consider failure experience.”

The jab annoyed him, despite being from an enemy. “I consider experience experience.” Again, he had to regain his composure as he inched his way closer. “Almighty Thanos… I… Loki… Prince of Asgard...”

He stopped, looking to his brother in reassurance, and maybe a bit of fear of what was to come. “Odinson…”

Thor stared back, silently demanding to know what was going on. Hopefully, that little clue was enough to make him realize which side Loki was on. If Thanos caught it too… Well, it was no consequence to Loki.

He continued to speak as he got closer. “The rightful king of Jotunheim, god of mischief…” He discreetly formed a dagger in his left hand. “do hereby pledge to you… my undying… fidelity.”

He bowed his head, mentally preparing to launch an attack he expected to fail. As fast as his tired muscles would allow, Loki swung the dagger towards Thanos’ throat, only for the space stone to keep his arm in place. Thanos looked completely unsurprised by the attack, and even had an air of amusement.

“Undying…”

While Loki didn’t expect to actually die, he felt like he was staring death in the face. It was like being stuck in an arena with a savage beast that was only being kept away from him thanks to a leash made of old, worn rope.

Thanos grabbed Loki’s outstretched arm and slowly twisted it around. “You should choose your words more carefully.”

The spell may save him from death, but it didn’t save him from the pain that caused him to drop his dagger, nor did it save him from the agony of being grabbed by the throat and lifted off the ground. Loki could hardly take in any air as Thanos slowly tightened his grip. No doubt he wanted to torment him for as long as possible before he killed him.

As one last act of defiance, Loki choked out, “You… will never be… a god.”

He felt his neck snap as everything went black.

* * *

Loki had been injured and sick multiple times throughout his life, but as he awoke, he felt like he had been thrown around by the Hulk for several hours. It didn’t take long for him to remember what had happened. Without opening his eyes, he could tell he was laying on a couch. A pillow was supporting his head and a warm blanket was covering him. He could smell something cooking as a fire crackled nearby. He smirked to himself, sensing his plan was all coming together. He had been unable to explain to Thor what the spell was, but it appeared his brother paid attention to Loki’s instructions anyway.

Opening his eyes, the smile disappeared from Loki’s face. He hadn’t been on Earth long, but he liked to think he knew what the inside of human buildings looked like. He sat up, taking in more of his surroundings. The couch was just a glorified wooden bench with cushions to lay on, the blanket was pure, brown fur, and there was a cauldron over the fire. The closed curtains, while in good shape, were nothing fancy. Neither was the tiny table with chipped paint by Loki’s head.

The door creaked loudly as it opened, catching his attention. Rather than his brother or anyone else he knew, a woman stepped inside. She had her blonde hair tied back into a messy ponytail, wore a simple, light green dress that had lost its color over the years, and she was carrying a basket of vegetables. She looked surprised to see Loki up, but it was nowhere near the amount of surprise Loki felt at seeing her in general.

She sighed in relief before closing the door behind her. “You’re awake! We were all so worried!”

Loki simply asked, “Where’s my brother?”

The woman’s face changed to show slight worry. “Your brother?”

He impatiently replied, “Yes, my brother. I need to speak with him about Thanos and how to move forward.”

“Thanos?”

Loki stared at her like she was an idiot. “The titan who attacked our ship.”

She looked like she came to some sort of realization, but any hope of finding Thor was dashed when she asked, “Is that what happened to you?”

He stood up, only for the room to start spinning. He barely registered the woman ordering him to sit back down, only to push him back on the couch. As his vision cleared up, he saw her drag a wooden chair over by the couch. Her basket had been forgotten by the door.

As she sat down, she asked, “What does your brother look like?”

Loki blinked a few times in an attempt to get rid of any haze in his vision. “He’s Thor.”

“I’m afraid I need a description.”

Loki made eye contact with the woman to see that there really was no trace of recognition. She continued to sit patiently, waiting for Loki to say something. He finally and halfheartedly described his brother, saying, “Tall. Blond hair. Missing an eye.”

She released a breath Loki didn’t even realize she was holding. “Your brother’s not here.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “You say that like it’s a good thing.”

She nodded. “It means he’s not confirmed dead.”

He looked around the room as if it held all of the answers to this mystery he found himself in. It’s safe to say that this wasn’t Earth, but he had no clue as to where he was. “What is this place?”

“You’re in my house on Gangalo.”

It took a moment, but Loki remembered where he had heard that name before. During his week on Sakaar, he had heard briefly of Sakkar’s long-lost sister planet. There had been a small debate on whether or not Gangalo even existed. He hadn’t bothered to participate or even pick a side since Gangalo’s existence was inconsequential to him. The only reason he had paid attention at all was because the planet was supposedly immune to certain powers of the infinity stones.

The woman explained, “You were among the dozens of bodies that fell from the sky yesterday. We’re confident we’ve gathered them all, but I’m sorry to say… you were the only one found alive…”

He asked, “Does time work on this planet like on Sakaar or the rest of the universe?”

“I’m surprised you know about that. I know nothing about this Sakaar, but from what we’ve seen, time works differently here than on Asgard.”

Loki's heart nearly stopped at the implications. He was on an isolated planet and Thor was nowhere to be found. If his brother was looking for him, it could take months or years on Loki's end before the two of them reunited. Given the time difference, that was even assuming Thor would look for him right away. Then there was the problem with the infinity stones. Loki highly doubted Thanos would be able to collect them all with the Avengers in his way. However, with Gangalo's supposed immunity, Loki would have no way of knowing if Thanos miraculously pulled off his plan.

He whispered to himself, “I have to go…”

He shot to his feet, stumbling due to dizziness and weak muscles. The woman had stood just as quickly, but he paid her no mind as he took one step to the front door. She practically jumped in his way, using one hand to grab his bicep and bracing the other against his chest.

She protested, “Where do you think you’re going?! You need to rest!”

He exclaimed in anger, “I don’t need a babysitter! I need to find a way off this planet!” He tried to get around her.

It didn’t take much effort on her part to stay between him and the door. “And how do you expect to do that?! The last ship on the planet was disassembled for parts long before I was even born!”

He jerked his arm to get it out of her grasp, the simple yet sudden movement almost causing him to fall over in his weakened state. Judging by her expression, it didn’t go unnoticed. “I won’t be able to get anywhere if I just sit here!”

“You can barely walk!”

“I’m fine!”

“No you’re-!” Exasperated, she closed her eyes and put a hand on her forehead. Smirking in triumph, Loki was going to go around her when he noticed she gained a smile of her own. Crossing her arms, she said, “Tell you what? If you can get past my friend outside, you can go wherever you like.”

He nearly laughed as his weak legs took him to the door. “Very well. I’m sure your friend can be reasoned with. You said he’s outside?”

She didn’t even bother to follow him. “Yes. You can’t miss him. His name is Jormungandr.”

With his hand on the doorknob, Loki bowed his head to her in thanks and to say goodbye. He opened the door and walked out with confidence. “Sir Jormungandr.”

He froze at what he saw. Rather than anything resembling a man or other intelligent creature he had seen in his life, Jormungandr was a giant snake of the likes Loki had never seen before. He was about as tall as the house, and it was difficult to tell exactly how long he was because most of him was hanging off a cliff and went into the ocean below. He was dark blue, but his underbelly was noticeably lighter. He had black frills on each side of his head and one long frill that travelled down his back for at least 20 feet. Upon hearing his name, Jormungandr reared his head up as he observed the person who had addressed him.

Without another word, Loki stepped back inside the house and closed the door.

Looking absolutely smug, the woman said, “I don’t think anyone’s ever addressed him as ‘Sir’ before.”

Glaring daggers at her, Loki walked, or rather staggered, back to the couch. The woman, unfazed by his pouting, made a move to help him, but he held up a hand and shook his head. She simply shrugged at his refusal as he sat back down.

She approached the cauldron over the fire, saying, “I wasn’t sure if you’d wake up tonight. I already put ox meat, carrots, and potatoes in the stew. Is that alright?”

Loki laid back down, staring at the ceiling. “It’s not like I have any other options.”

“I wouldn’t mind making something else for you.”

He took one look around the room that just screamed, 'poor.' He had a hunch this woman didn't have caviar or anything he'd normally eat. “But no doubt they’d all be unappetizing.”

She glanced at him before turning her attention back to the stew. “Many consider it unwise to insult the person preparing your food.”

“I'm trapped on an isolated planet while being held captive by a monster snake and a peasant. If you were going to poison me, I’d eat it without a fuss.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said sarcastically. “The peasant is named Sigyn Iwaldidottir by the way.”

“Loki. I’ll respond to both Odinson and Laufeyson.” At her questioning gaze, he continued, “Adoption.”

She visibly contemplated what he said before replying, “So you’re the biological son of the King of Jotunheim and the adopted son of the King of Asgard?”

Taken aback by her correct guess, he asked, “How did you know which was which?”

She grabbed a bowl and a ladle. “Pesta-the village healer-found out you were a frost giant while she was examining you.” As she scooped some stew into the bowl, she added, “I suppose being a prince explains the clothes you were wearing... And why you have a hard time following instructions.”

“ _Were?!_ ” Loki looked down at himself and noticed for the first time that he wasn’t wearing the outfit that he wore on the ship. Instead, he wore a brown shirt and pants that a peasant on Asgard would wear. At least he got to keep his boots. “What in Hel's name am I wearing?!”

Sigyn sat back in the wooden chair by the couch with two bowls of stew. “The fall and whatever else happened to you did a number on your clothes, so Grim offered some of his. He and Pesta are the only ones who saw you without anything on, I promise.”

She silently offered him a bowl, which he took with much hesitancy. “That part's a relief I suppose, but I’d still prefer my own clothes instead of these rags.”

“…You’re not one for politeness, are you?”

He sassed, “I’m polite when it’s beneficial to me.”

She brought a spoonful of stew up to her mouth as she mumbled, “Well the rags fit your personality.”

Loki wasn’t quite sure he heard her right. “What?”

Sigyn shook her head and stood. She looked guilty, but her eyes held something akin to understanding. “I’m sorry. That was a bit far on my part. You can throw as big of a tantrum as you want, I hardly care, but I would suggest showing a bit more gratitude to Pesta and Grim when you meet them.”

She set her spoon in her bowl before heading to the front door. Loki asked, “Where are you going?”

She turned back towards him as she explained, “You obviously want to be alone so you can grieve your fallen comrades. I was very snippy myself when-”

He rolled his eyes before interrupting with, “I’m not grieving.”

Sigyn eyed him, seemingly not convinced. “So you’re like this all the time? Why?”

He wistfully answered, “Oh, it’s a long story about being abandoned by one father and ignored by the other. You know how it is.”

They stayed in silence for a few moments before Sigyn put a hand on the doorknob. “Yell if you need anything.”

As she cracked the door open, Loki suddenly remembered that he still had no clue about where he was. “I actually do need something. Answers.”

After a pause, Sigyn closed the door and sat on the chair for the third time. “What would you like to know?”

“I’ve heard of Gangalo before, but there was no mention of any inhabitants. Who else is here? What exactly is this... village?”

She adjusted herself so that she was in a more relaxed position. “The village you’re in is called Mannelig. There are other villages like ours here and there. That is, mostly made up of Asgardian descendants.”

Loki decided to eat his stew as he listened. “You’re Asgardians?”

“I’ve never set foot on Asgard, but I suppose I am. As Hela and Odin became more and more cruel, dozens of people decided to flee in search of a better life. They happened to stumble across this planet. Other creatures here include giants, like Hymir, trolls, dwarves, Jotuns, spriggans, Dullahan… and you’ve already met the one sea serpent we’ve found.”

He recalled the giant snake out front. Jormungandr seemed very relaxed, almost like he belonged where he was laying. “Is he your pet?”

“He’s not really considered a pet. I suppose I’m the closest person to ‘owning’ him. We’re rather close, and one of my jobs is to make sure he doesn’t eat something he shouldn’t.”

“Is that why I’m with you? Because you have control over something that can keep me trapped?”

She looked like she wanted to roll her eyes, but she continued with her explanation, “Normally, you’d be staying at Pesta’s infirmary, but we’re keeping the fallen bodies there. Also taking into account that there are still patients recovering from a recent troll attack, there was no room to keep you. As one of the few people that live alone in Mannelig, I figured I could share my house until you either find a place of your own or someone from space comes for you.”

Loki set his half-finished stew on the small table beside him. “I ordered my brother to be by my side when the spell wore off. Either he’s forgotten or something has temporarily separated us. Hopefully, he’s sensible enough to at least look for my body between his kingly duties. If not, I’m sure I can find a way off the planet.”

Sigyn replied, “Then I suppose my home is your home until then.” She thought for a moment before saying, “You said ‘kingly duties.’ Is Thor the king of Asgard or Jotunheim?”

“Thor has been King of Asgard ever since the death of Odin and Hela. Jotunheim hasn’t had a king since I killed Laufey. Last I heard, it was a planet in chaos.”

A pause. “And Asgard?”

“Had to be destroyed in order to kill Hela. All of the Asgardians were on the ship Thanos attacked, heading to Midgard.”

Solemnly and with sadness in her eyes, she nodded. “We suspected some sort of attack. Pesta said all of the bodies had wounds unrelated to the fall.” She asked with almost childlike curiosity, “What were Odin and Hela like as a father and sister?”

He scoffed. “If you’re looking for something sentimental about them, you won’t hear it from me. Odin had Hela locked in Hel when she wouldn’t comply with his new, peaceful ways. Thor and I knew nothing about her until Odin died. And that was less than two weeks ago. As for my father… he cast a large shadow upon me, and I wasn't exactly his favorite.”

Despite the little amount of information he gave, her curiosity seemed satisfied. “Well, Pesta will be happy to hear that Odin changed his ways. Better late than never, I suppose. And I’m sure she’ll be thrilled that Hela’s gone.”

He tried piecing together why the village healer would particularly be so interested in his family's affairs. “I don’t quite understand,” he said.

“Before she left Asgard, Pesta was the royal executioner. She never had a kind thing to say about Hela.”

Loki wasn’t going to lie (for once). Hearing that there was someone on the planet that knew his father on a personal level intrigued him. “Mm. I see.”

“Speaking of Pesta, she wants you to stop by the infirmary when you're feeling up to it. Partly to check up on you and partly so that you can identify some bodies.”

“I doubt I’ll be much help.”

“Maybe, but I think we owe it to those people to try.”

He wrapped the blanket around himself, suddenly feeling the need to fall asleep. Part of him wanted to fight the drowsiness and stay awake, but he saw no reason to keep his eyes open. Sigyn was obviously not a threat, and it sounded like Jormungandr was under her control. As much as he hated sleeping in unfamiliar places, his body was begging for him to take a nap.

He felt Sigyn adjust his pillow. “I know this is a lot to take in. In the meantime, you should rest. I’ll do my best not to disturb you.”

Loki was asleep in mere seconds.

* * *

He woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast, feeling infinitely better than he had the day before. Sigyn must have been able to tell, because she had no qualms about him walking down to Pesta. That was why they were strolling away from her isolated house and to the rest of the village.

Now that there was no sea serpent taking all of his attention, Loki was able to properly observe the environment. The entire village was on cliffs overlooking the sea, but it was otherwise surrounded by a coniferous forest. The few deciduous trees were just starting to change color. The buildings Loki and Sigyn were approaching were made of wood and very unassuming.

Loki commented on the houses, “You people are very plain.”

Sigyn took no visible offense. “We try and keep things simple. What’s the use of having extravagance?”

“It’d certainly make this place less boring.”

Once they were among the collection of buildings, Loki was finally able to see the other people. There was a blacksmith hammering something on an anvil, a couple of farmers tending crops, children playing, and others going about their business. The only thing the aforementioned villagers had in common was that they momentarily stopped what they were doing so they could stare at Loki. As much as he loved attention, he didn’t exactly enjoy being looked at like an animal in a zoo. He’d glare back at the onlookers until they got the message and got back to what they were doing.

He told Sigyn, “There’s quite a lot of staring.”

Unconcerned, she said, “I’m not surprised. We don’t get many visitors. Let alone someone who fell from space. The infirmary is just up ahead.” She pointed at a building that was noticeably larger and longer than the others. As they approached the door to the infirmary, they heard running footsteps behind them. Turning around, they saw that a small boy was running towards them, or at least Loki thought it was a small boy. The child was covered in tree bark and small twigs that he somehow glued to himself. Even his hair wasn’t spared from his head-to-toe costume.

The boy approached and raised his arms to the side. “I’m the Bark Man!”

Loki had never encountered this situation before, and simply looked the child up and down. “…Oh…?”

Sigyn, taking the unusual sight in stride, introduced the two of them. “Arrow-Odd, this is Loki. Loki, this is Arrow-Odd.”

“'Odd’ does seem accur-” Before he could finish his sentence, she elbowed him in the abdomen. It didn’t really hurt, but the message was clear. He rolled his eyes and knocked on the door, not bothering to look at Arrow-Odd as he said, “Pleased to meet you.”

The door opened to reveal a short woman wearing a hooded shroud. Her long, gray hair was unkempt and she was hunched over at what looked like an uncomfortable angle. Despite the fact she looked like an old hag, she smiled and spoke like a sweet grandmother. “Well, look who’s decided to join the living. It’s lovely to see you on your feet.”

Loki replied, “You must be Pesta. Luckily, I was able to get past the giant snake today.”

Pesta laughed. “A frost giant unable to get past that big pushover?” It took a moment for him to register what she meant. He looked to Sigyn, his gaze full of accusations.

Sigyn had a smile and overall expression of feigned innocence. “I told you you’d have to get past Jormungandr. I never said how much of a challenge it would be.” She gently took Arrow-Odd’s hand and began leading him away from the building. “Let’s get you to your mother, Bark Man.”

Loki watched them go, but Pesta’s voice brought his attention back to her. “Come. There’s much to do.”

He hesitantly followed her, stepping into a building smelling of herbs. All of the visible beds held injured men who were either sleeping or too occupied with pain to pay any attention to Loki’s arrival. He assumed all of the bodies Sigyn had mentioned were behind the row of curtains just a few feet away. Pesta led him to a table littered with equipment and supplies.

She sat him down on a nearby chair. “Now, let me have a look at you.” She held his face in her hands, and intensely observed his face. “What might your name be?”

“Loki, Prince of Asgard and Would-Be King of Jotunheim.”

She looked into his eyes as if searching for something. “Yes… I see traces of Odin in you.”

“Odin merely adopted me. Laufey-”

Pesta interrupted, “Do you think biology is the only thing that makes a person?” Loki eyed her, trying to figure out what she meant, and more importantly, what she wanted him to say in return. Apparently, she didn't expect him to say anything. She simply grabbed his wrist and put two fingers on his pulse. “How is Odin nowadays?”

“Dead. Along with Hela and Asgard.”

She gave a nod. “Ragnarök, I presume.”

“You know about that?”

“Of course I do. It was a very popular prophecy.” She let go of his wrist. “I can feel your heartbeat again. It appears whatever spell you used wore off.”

“You couldn’t feel it before?” He didn't remember that being a side effect of the spell.

“No. If Jormungandr didn’t smell that you were alive, you would be with the other bodies.”

Loki decided to change the subject, not wanting to think about waking up amongst rotting flesh. “Sigyn said you were Odin’s executioner.”

“Until Hela was old enough to be, yes. Her method of killing was much quicker than mine.”

“What did you do?”

She turned back to her desk in search of a hidden object. “I’d curse them with maladies.”

“That sounds brutal.”

He couldn’t see her face, but he noticed her freeze for a moment. “It was…” She grabbed a potion, poured some of it into a bronze cup and handed said cup to Loki. “Drink this.”

He took the cup and stared down into it. “What does it do?”

“Temporarily eliminates your sense of smell.”

Loki looked between her and the potion as he took in what she said. “And why would I want to do that?”

“I’ve done as much as I could to keep the smell at bay up front, but past the curtains, the stench of death is prominent.”

“I’ve been in battles. I’ve killed. I’ll be fine.” He held the cup out to her.

She didn’t bother to even glance at it. “Have you ever smelled bodies that have been dead for two days? Some of which emptied their bowels post-mortem? All of which are in an enclosed space?”

He looked back at the potion, realizing that he had never smelled that, nor would he allow himself to. He downed the liquid like it was a shot, hoping the taste would be palatable. Thankfully, he barely tasted anything, and the smell of herbs quickly vanished.

Pesta asked, “Would you like a moment to prepare yourself?”

“I’ll be fine,” he repeated.

She signaled him to follow her and the two made their way to the curtains. She struggled to heft a curtain to the side, prompting him to help. Battle-hardened Loki was hit with a grisly sight of bodies lined up in beds, many of which stared to the sky with dead eyes. No bed was empty, but some had two occupants to hold. The bodies Loki would usually see were fresh enough that they almost looked asleep, but these… He could barely grasp the idea that they had ever been alive in the first place. It was surreal enough for his stomach to do a flip and to put his senses on edge.

Pesta must’ve noticed his unease. “If you wish to turn back, I will allow it. You don’t have to scar yourself so that we have names to put on-”

Pride and his ego stepped in. “I’ll do it,” he interrupted.

The next few minutes were spent quietly walking down aisles, observing bodies. Just as he predicted, he didn’t recognize face after face. There was this unspoken need to remain silent in order to preserve the unique atmosphere. The presence of the dead demanded to not be disturbed, so Loki would just look at a person, not know them, and move on without a word.

It wasn’t until towards the end of the twisted tour when he recognized someone. He bypassed the four beds between him and the deceased, letting his feet lead him. Sooner than he would’ve liked, he was looking down at Heimdall. To see him like this was so unnatural, it was like Loki’s soul itself was protesting. It was somewhat surprising, since he already knew Heimdall was dead and they were never close to begin with. They were rarely even on friendly terms.

He told Pesta in a quiet voice, “He’s the only one I know.”

She responded in the same volume, “My condolences all the same. What should we put on his epitaph?”

“Epitaph?”

“For when we bury him in the funeral mound.”

He shook his head. “There will be no burials. Put the bodies in their own boats, set the bodies alight and let the boats carry them out to sea.”

“It will take some time to make so many boats.”

“These people can wait. It’s what they would’ve wanted.”

Pesta nodded. “If Hymir and Knarr work together and take little breaks, we might have enough by tomorrow night, but I can’t guarantee it.”

Loki continued to study Heimdall, not giving her a response. He couldn’t discern what he was feeling. For a moment, he thought it was grief, but this was nothing like what he felt when his mother died. It was nowhere near as painful.

He watched Pesta walk away out of the corner of his eye. “I’ll be up front,” she told him.

When he heard her open and shut the curtain, he took a step closer to Heimdall. He began speaking, barely above a whisper, “There were times I wanted you imprisoned. Even dead. You were a constant thorn in my side that I desperately wanted to be rid of… And yet, now I see that I actually saw you as infallible. Part of me is expecting you to stand. Part of me is expecting this body to be fake. I’m sure you’re laughing at me now, wherever you are. I’m stranded, feeling torn about someone I didn’t care for, and…” He took a deep breath before he continued, “If you still see all, I need you to do me a favor. Tell my parents… Tell them… I don’t know. Something meaningful.”

Heimdall, of course, didn’t respond. Loki actually felt rather silly for talking to a dead body, but he also felt compelled to continue. “You were a worthy adversary, and I will make sure you have the funeral you deserve.”

Finally, Loki left to rejoin the living.

* * *

It took just as long as Pesta predicted to make all of the boats, but that was because so many people helped. Once word spread that the Asgardian custom of burial mounds had changed to lighting the body on fire on a boat, everyone who knew anything about building a boat volunteered. Loki had described the longboats that were usually used, but the ability to make boats that size and shape was lacking. Instead, fishing boats were built without the seats.

The night they were ready, each body was placed in its own boat and carried miles away where there was a rocky beach instead of a cliff leading out to sea. A surprising number of villagers showed up to the funeral, many carrying candles. Even Jormungandr attended, most of his body underwater while he reared his head back to tower over everyone else.

Loki watched the boats float away, thousands of yellow lights rose from the fires as the souls flew to Valhalla. The villagers behind him made sounds of awe and surprise at the beauty.

He whispered to the lights, “Farewell.”

As the boats disappeared, the villagers slowly began to make their way back, but something compelled Loki to stay behind, keeping his sight on the waves. Soon, only he, Sigyn, and Jormungandr were left. She stood next to Loki, holding a lantern that would eventually help them get back to her house.

She put a hand on his shoulder. “You did what you could for them.” When he didn’t respond, she continued, “I promise, it’s okay to feel whatever it is you’re feeling right now.”

Loki almost chuckled, not looking away from the sea. “I didn’t know most of them, and the one I did know wasn’t even a friend. It’s not like I’m mourning them.”

“Then why are you still here?”

He turned his eyes to her, unsure of what to say. Her lantern cast a glow on her face that showed an expression of… Loki couldn’t tell for sure, but it certainly wasn’t judgmental like he was expecting. It looked more like a mixture between kindness and… patience?

He looked out to the sea one more time before saying, “Let’s go back.”


	2. Of Magic and Mardoll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has to spend time with Mannelig's children, who are very interested in his magic. After finding Sigyn's mother's sketchbook, he learns more about his hostess' past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had thought I would've posted this chapter last week, but it became longer than I expected. If you're a big fan of Norse mythology's gods and heroes, you might see some familiar names!
> 
> Last but not least, thank you so much to those of you who already bookmarked or gave this story a kudos!

Loki lost track of exactly how many days had passed. He knew it had been over a week, maybe even two, since the funeral. He hadn’t left Sigyn’s property since they returned from the beach, spending his days focusing on his skills and brainstorming ways off the planet. For the most part, Sigyn gave him space to do as he wished.

Jormungandr watched curiously as Loki sliced the tree with his dagger. He was in his usual position with his head and a portion of his body on the grass, but most of his body was in the ocean below. Loki had seen weirder things than a giant snake, so he was able to adapt to Jormungandr’s presence once he realized he wasn’t a threat. They were around each other enough to become familiar with the other, but there were no bonding experiences to be had.

Several other etches in the bark had been left as evidence of his knifework. The tree wasn’t the best sparring partner, but it wasn’t like Loki had many options. With another fluid and swift motion, a new scratch formed on the bark. He observed his handiwork as he twirled the dagger in his hand, satisfied.

Someone behind him joked, “What did that tree ever do to you?”

Loki looked back to see Sigyn. Her hair was down and she had a satchel of books hanging off her shoulder. He had learned the day after the funeral that Sigyn was a tutor for the village children, and it wasn’t difficult to figure out why she had the books. “Off to work?”

“In a few minutes. I was actually hoping you’d come with me.”

This was definitely different than the relatively distant Sigyn she had been. Loki fully faced her as he asked, “Why would I do that?”

She shrugged. “The children have been wanting to see the prince who fell from the sky. Besides, I figured some time in the village would do you some good.”

Loki continued practicing on the tree. “No.”

“…No, it wouldn’t do you good or-?”

“I mean no, I won’t waste time entertaining children. I have bigger problems to take care of.”

“So you do, but don’t you think you should take a break?”

He almost laughed. “I don’t consider looking after children a break. They’ll just be a distraction. A nuisance.”

There was a moment or two of silence before Sigyn overdramatically sighed. She spoke with a copious amount of fake disappointment. “Okay. You win. I’ll tell the children you couldn’t make it today. It’s such a shame, though. They were really looking forward to meeting you. It also would’ve been a nice change of pace to learn about Asgard from its prince, but I guess I can just stick to these same old books. I hope I don’t bore them...”

This time, Loki actually did chuckle as he faced her again. “Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

She smirked. “Maybe. Is it working?”

“No.” He made his dagger disappear. “If you’ll excuse me…” He wanted to go back inside the house and find a book he hadn’t read yet, but Sigyn had other plans. As soon as he was close enough, she leaned back against him. Acting on instinct, he held his hands on her shoulders so that she wouldn’t fall to the ground or topple him over.

She continued her little monologue, “Those poor children…”

“You can’t guilt me into going.”

She tipped her head back so she could smile up at him. “But I can annoy you into it.”

“You’re treading in very dangerous territory, woman.”

She completely ignored him. “I can see it now. They’ll ask, ‘Where’s Loki? Is he sick?’ And then I’ll have to tell them, ‘He’s okay. He’s just busy.’ ‘Too busy for us?’”

“I’m going to drop you in about five seconds.”

“In front of Jormungandr? That’s a bad idea.”

Loki looked to the sea serpent in question, who in turn was watching the scene unfold. Jormungandr did indeed turn out to be a pushover, but it became clear very quickly that he loved Sigyn just as dogs love their owners. Letting her fall while he was watching wouldn’t be very smart. Especially when the person letting her fall was barely more than a stranger to him.

He said, “You can’t threaten me with your snake every time we have an argument.”

She stood up, supporting her own weight, and turned to face him. All traces of a joking mood were gone. “What’s so bad about visiting kids who want to meet you?”

He countered, “Why do you want me to go so much?”

“You’re deflecting, but I’ll bite.” Her voice full of sincerity, she explained, “Watching people crash down from space was scary. For all of us. Some thought it was a bad omen or the apocalypse. We couldn’t shield all of the kids from what was happening, and they need help dealing with what they saw. I suspect the children don’t just want to meet you because you’re a prince, but because you’re the only one alive. And then there’s how poorly you’ve been doing.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I realize this is a difficult situation you’re in, and I want to do everything in my power to help. You need and want time to process what happened by yourself. You want to find a way off Gangalo. But it’s gotten to a point where your health is deteriorating.”

Slightly insulted, he denied it. “I am in no way deteriorating.”

She clearly wasn’t buying it. “Oh really? Then how do you explain the couple days you didn’t sleep? Or the few days you only slept during the day and studied at night? Actually, why don’t you tell me what you had for dinner last night?”

Loki recalled the two days he hadn’t slept, frantically keeping away memories of what it felt like to lose his mother, or even his father. After that, he would read through some of Sigyn’s books throughout the night. While entertaining, they weren’t proving useful in helping Loki reach his goal. As for dinner…

He replied, “I believe I had… what did you say it was called?”

“…Bread. I gave you bread, Loki.”

He remembered that now. Loki had been thinking he had had some sort of fish for dinner, but that had been two or three nights ago. It suddenly dawned on him that the days had been bleeding together lately, and he had lost count for reasons other than not caring. Sigyn was right about his wellbeing deteriorating, and he was letting himself fall apart. However, his ego wouldn’t let him concede.

Hoping she didn’t notice his shock, he argued, “Even if there was something wrong, _which there isn’t_ , going with you to see a bunch of children won’t fix anything.”

“I’m not naïve enough to think that it will, but I believe it’s a step in the right direction.” In response to his skeptic look, she continued, “Interact with them for ten minutes. That’s all I ask. Please…”

As much as Loki wanted to shut himself away from everyone in his search for a way to Midgard, a small part of him wanted more social interaction. Sigyn’s property was very isolated from the rest of Mannelig. The other buildings were in view, but they were at least a quarter of a mile away. Children weren’t exactly the best at casual conversation, but he assumed there would be adults nearby he could speak with. Besides, if he said no today, who’s to say Sigyn wouldn’t pester him tomorrow or the day after that?

He sighed. “I’ll have you know that I consider this kidnapping.”

A satisfied smile on her face, she playfully rolled her eyes before walking toward Jormungandr. “Drama queen.”

Loki followed, unamused by the situation. “Says the one who was just monologuing like an actress.”

“I’ll give you that.” She made it to Jormungandr and scratched him under the chin. “Loki and I are going to see the kids. You go enjoy the ocean.”

Jormungandr bumped his nose against her in what appeared to be an attempted nuzzle before turning back and submerging the rest of his body underwater. Loki walked to the edge of the cliff to see him swim away toward the direction Loki assumed his tail was.

He rejoined Sigyn as they walked down the trail. “He’s not joining us?”

“He tends to distract the kids, so he generally shows up at the end if he feels like it.”

“And what makes you think I won’t be a distraction?”

“Because today’s lesson is going to be about you and your life on Asgard.”

That part didn’t sound so bad, though Loki would rather talk about himself to adults. “I still don’t understand why you’re a tutor…”

Sigyn explained, “Mannelig is small enough to a point we only need a currency when travelling to cities or larger villages, but we all have to do our part to keep the village going. Most of us are farmers, but we also have Pesta as a healer, some tailors, carpenters, and so on. I chose to educate the children and make sure Jormungandr doesn’t eat Hymir’s oxen.”

“As harmonious as it all sounds, I was talking about your career choice. Children are loud, undignified, and… well… gross.”

“Because I happen to _like_ children. While I can’t speak for all kids, the ones in Mannelig are very sweet.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

* * *

They arrived in a clearing just outside the village’s cluster of buildings. Several children were running around and playing tag. Most of them didn’t notice Loki and Sigyn as they frolicked and giggled like madmen.

It was very apparent that these children weren’t of noble birth. If their simple clothes weren’t enough to give that away, their shoeless feet and faces with specks of dirt were. Growing up a prince, Loki was lucky enough to have relative freedom to play and be rambunctious as a child, but if he and Thor even tried going outside without shoes, their parents would’ve had their heads. Seeing so many children acting so undisciplined made him feel intrigued, yet irritated and uncomfortable. He likened the sight of them running around to rats scattering in different directions.

He sneered. “How angelic…”

Sigyn quietly chastised him. “Might I suggest keeping any sarcastic insults you have to yourself?”

“You may, but there’s no guarantee I’ll comply.”

A child who did notice their arrival ran over to them in excitement. She was a young girl with fiery red hair and a large smile on her face. She nearly collided with Loki, but was able to grind herself to a halt without injuring herself or others. “You’re here! You’re here!”

The exclamation caught the attention of the other children, who stopped their game to eagerly join Sigyn and Loki. Some of them looked familiar, and Loki realized he must’ve seen them on his way to meet Pesta. Two of them grabbed his hands while they all bombarded him with questions and statements. In their effort to speak over each other, not a single word could be singled out. Loki was at a loss as to what he should do, and could only look down at them incredulously.

Sigyn gently shooed the crowding children back so that he could have space. “Alright, alright! Let Loki sit down first before we do anything else.”

As she led Loki over to a large tree stump, most of the kids quickly found their seats on the grass in front of the same stump. One boy stuck next to Loki, asking, “Do you remember me?”

At first, Loki couldn’t recall who this boy was. His voice was more familiar than his appearance, but he was soon able to place where he had met this boy before. He replied in a voice that betrayed his disinterest, “Aw, it’s the Bark Man.”

Arrow-Odd glumly confirmed his identity. “My mother says I can’t be the Bark Man anymore, so I’m just boring Arrow-Odd now.”

Sigyn butted in with a cheery, “I think you’re far from boring, Arrow-Odd. You’re creative, adventurous, and fun to be around.”

Hope in his innocent eyes, he asked, “I am?”

“Do you think Hjalmar would be your best friend if you weren’t fun?”

Grinning, he went to go sit with the other children. Loki himself took a seat on the stump with numerous eyes fixated on him. He wasn’t sure what to make of these children, and he wondered if Sigyn would’ve taken no for an answer after all.

Sigyn stood next to him as she introduced him to the children. “Everyone, this is Loki. He’s the Asgardian prince that’s going to be staying with us for a while. He’s going to tell us about Asgard today.”

Loki matter-of-factly said, “Asgard was destroyed. It’s gone. Goodbye.”

He stood, but Sigyn put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. A kind smile still graced her features, but there was a hint of a warning in her voice. “He’s agreed to answer your questions for ten minutes.”

Little hands shot into the air as the kids eagerly raised them in the hopes to be called on. Loki slowly sat down before pointing to the calmest child. “You.”

The boy meekly asked, “How are you a Prince of Asgard if you’re a frost giant?”

Loki was already tired of explaining this to everyone, but he begrudgingly answered, “I was adopted by the King and Queen of Asgard.”

The little boy was still shy, but was growing curious. “If Odin’s your father, does that mean you’re bad?”

Rather than answer, he huffed in annoyance. Even if Odin never had a change of heart, the influence he had on Loki was minimal compared to that of his mother.

Sigyn answered for him, “That’s a good question, Hjalmar. While it’s easy to think children grow up to be just like their parents, sometimes, nice parents have mean children while mean parents have nice children. People can also become nice after being mean. Loki says that’s what happened to Odin.”

He muttered, “He was nice to his subjects, maybe.” He pointed at a little girl, already willing everyone to hurry up.

She asked, “How come you didn’t go to Valhalla with the other people who fell from the sky?”

Loki actually considered the question. Asgardians (and frost giants for that matter) were practically indestructible compared to humans. It’s why everyone who crashed down from space with Loki didn’t explode upon impact. While he didn’t know how far they fell, Loki was certain it wouldn’t have been enough to kill them. Everyone except him must’ve been dead beforehand, like Heimdall. Not for the first time, he wondered why their bodies didn’t stay on the ship.

He answered, “The others were murdered on the spaceship. Next question.”

Another little boy didn’t even wait to be called on as he got up on his knees and leaned forward. The two children who sat in front of him had to bear some of his weight as he put a hand on each of their shoulders. “Are varulven real?!” he exclaimed.

It was an unexpected question, but Loki knew exactly what the little boy was talking about. Varulven, or werewolves as most modern Midgardians knew them as, were bloodthirsty monsters who attacked people under the cover of darkness. With only the moon as a light source, the victims stood no chance against the beast. Back when they were children, Thor and Loki were warned of the creatures only to learn that they were a work of fiction.

Nevertheless, the innocent question provoked his mischievous nature. Varulven were created to scare children. Why not use the term for its intended purpose? Smirking, he replied, “Of course they’re real.” At the widening eyes and dropped hands, he continued to speak as if he was telling an enchanting tale, “There were many nights I’d lay asleep in bed only to be awoken by the shrill howls of a varulv. Sometimes, a chorus of howls would break the silence, and everyone knew that a pack of varulven had just made a kill.”

Arrow-Odd, his voice shaking, asked for clarification. “But there aren’t any varulven on Gangalo, right?”

Loki shrugged. “Perhaps there are…” The children turned into statues as they let the information sink in. His grin widened at their reactions.

Sigyn interjected, “Loki and I will be right back.”

Still feeling smug about his little joke, Loki stood tall as he followed Sigyn until they were several feet away from the children. Visibly frustrated and voice stern, she asked, “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Having a bit of fun. Might as well make some use of being here.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, part of the reason I brought you here was to make them less afraid of a scary event!”

“Yes. Now they’re scared of something else.” As she simply glared at him, he said, “I honestly don’t see why you’re so upset.”

“Don’t you remember being a child?”

“I try not to.”

“Emotions are amplified in children. What’s happy is absolutely joyful and what’s scary is terrifying. What’s a shock to us is potentially horrifying to them.”

He spoke down to her as if she was a child herself. “I think you’re blowing this out of proportion.”

Without looking away from him, Sigyn outstretched her arm so that she could point to her students. “Look at them.”

Loki obliged, but felt irritated by the command. The children were watching him in anticipation, eyes filled with fear. At first, he didn’t note anything of significance, but the longer he looked, the more he understood what he had done. Rather than holding the startled expressions similar to a servant whose wine he had turned into snakes, the faces the children held were more akin to people afraid for their lives. These were the frightened expressions of the humans when he ordered them to kneel, or the Asgardians who ran from Hela and then Thanos. He felt himself fill with dread as the children’s gazes bore into him.

He turned back to Sigyn, defensive. “But who’s to say varulven aren’t real?”

She shook her head. “The world is scary enough as it is, Loki. Let’s not give them something else to be afraid of.”

He sighed. “What would you have me do now?”

As if scolding a child, she ordered, “You’re going to go over there, tell them it was a joke and hope that they believe you!”

“Why would they not believe me?”

“Because they might think you’re lying to make them feel better!”

“Fair enough.” Loki straightened and strode back to the children. When he reached them, he couldn’t help but notice how he towered above them. It only served to make him feel worse, though he refused to let it show. “My apologies. I’ve misled you.”

Some of the children looking up at him were on the verge of tears. Others seemed to be in fight or flight mode. With how set they looked in their belief of the monster, Loki was really doubting that he could convince them varulven weren’t real. If he were going to ease their fears, he was going to have to try something else. Luckily, Loki was a quick thinker and a talented liar.

He continued, “Varulven died out a long time ago. Asgard mourned them very much.” Slowly, the little ones before him turned from tiny, frightened statues to simply confused children as he kept talking. “You see, varulven turned out to be… misunderstood. They looked horrid, yes, but they turned out to be kind creatures. When they hunted at night, Asgardians weren’t their target. Sometimes, we even hunted together.”

A little girl appeared to have a breakthrough. “Oooooh, so they’re like Jormungandr! Scary when you first meet them, but then they turn out to be your friends!”

Loki smiled at the girl, and was a bit surprised that the grin wasn’t forced. “Precisely. Once Asgard realized the varulven were benevolent, we were able to live together peacefully.”

The boy who had asked about varulven in the first place was still suspicious. “So there aren’t any bad varulven? Not even one?”

Loki shrugged. “There were some bad ones, but there are bad Asgardians too, aren’t there?”

Going by their reactions, this answer made sense to them. Though one asked, “Why are they gone?”

“There was a disease that only affected varulven. I’m afraid it completely decimated the population.” Once the noises of disappointment died down, Loki hesitantly asked, “…Does anyone else have any questions?”

A girl asked, “Can I braid your hair?”

The girl with red hair whined, “But I want to braid his hair!”

Loki felt like he was short-circuiting as he tried to think of a response. “Uh…”

Sigyn stepped back into his line of sight as she said, “People usually don’t like to have their hair touched by people they don’t know very well. But if you work together, I’m sure you two can give me a wonderful hairstyle.”

He had no idea what came over him. Throughout his entire life, he only allowed his mother and himself to touch his hair. Either some kind spirit possessed him or guilt over his latest trick caused him to say, “They can braid my hair.”

Sigyn looked at Loki like he grew a second head. “…Are you sure?”

No, he wasn’t. “I am.”

His voice betrayed his real feelings, but none of the kids seemed to notice. The two girls leapt to their feet and tugged on Loki’s hands, pulling him back to the stump. Taking the hint, he sat down so the girls could have better access to his hair. He could only hope that his hair wasn’t an abomination by the time they were done.

One of the two girls not focused on his hair asked, “If you’re a prince, how come you don’t have a crown?”

Loki answered while simultaneously listening to the girls planning his hairstyle, “We don’t have crowns. Just helmets.”

“Then where’s your helmet?”

Without another word, he held his hand out in front of him. A yellow light with a green tint appeared, forming his horned helmet. “Here.”

Even the children working on his hair let out an awestruck “Woah!” at the helmet’s sudden appearance. The reaction surprised Loki, since his magic rarely sparked joy. In the past, he had either used it for malicious purposes or was around people who were used to seeing it.

Arrow-Odd exclaimed, “How’d you do that?!”

Indifferent, Loki replied, “I had put it away earlier. I merely summoned it.”

Hjalmar tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. “Put it away?”

Rather than explain, Loki made his helmet disappear in the same manner that he had made it appear. He considered it a mundane spell, but it elicited the same, impressed response from his audience. As some children chattered about what they had witnessed, two of them addressed Loki in excitement.

“What else can you do?”

“Do another trick!”

The admiration fed right into his ego, and he was happy to comply. “I’m also a master of illusion. Watch.”

They fell silent as Loki cupped his hands together. He paused for suspense before slowly unfolding his hands to reveal a yellow butterfly. He willed the illusion to fly over to the baffled children, where one predictably tried to touch it. The finger merely passed through the butterfly, and Loki allowed the illusion to fade. The children stared, mesmerized, at where the creature had vanished.

All at once, they requested that he conjure more illusions. He felt like he should be insulted, as if he was being treated like a lowly jester. However, they gazed upon him with respect and admiration rather than entitlement. Loki found himself rather flattered. He couldn’t remember the last time someone saw his abilities as something other than a means to an end.

The lessons about Asgard were mostly forgotten as Loki created many of the requested illusions. Most were animals, but others were much more creative. His favorite was a girl named Hervor’s request to make her a flaming sword which levitated in the air.

By the time the girl who had first approached him, Eir, and her friend, Ilmer, were finished with his hair, Loki conjured a mirror so that he could observe the work that had been done. He had been dreading the result, but to his surprise, it looked very… nice. His hair wasn’t as long as it was when he was imprisoned, but the two of them had managed to create a Dutch braid nonetheless. Loki turned his head from side to side as he studied his hair, expecting to see some major flaw yet finding none.

“What do you think?” Ilmer asked with a hint of nervousness.

Loki made the mirror vanish before saying, “It’s lovely… Thank you.”

The ground began to slightly vibrate, and a sound similar to the rumble of an earthquake made itself known. Rather than be alarmed, everyone calmly looked to the trail that led to Sigyn’s house. Jormungandr wasn’t very fast on land, but he was able to smoothly slither down the path and into the clearing. He struck Loki as being content yet expectant.

Eir asked Sigyn, “Can we go say hi?”

She responded, “Not just yet. What do we say to Loki?”

He was hit with a multitude of thank you’s that weren’t exactly in sync, but that he allowed himself to revel in. Satisfied, Sigyn gave everyone permission to go see Jormungandr. As the children sprinted over to say hello, Loki stood up and observed the nearby scene. Jormungandr found himself surrounded by children that would either dart around his snout or calmly pet his side.

Standing next to Loki, Sigyn took two fingers and pressed them against his neck right under his jaw. He reflexively craned his neck away from her. “What are you doing?”

She emitted a cheery laugh. “Well what do you know? You have a heart after all.”

Loki gently pushed her fingers away. He dryly commented, “How dull they must be as to be so easily amused by something so mundane…”

She was still smiling, but almost sounded flabbergasted. “Mundane?! The one with the most magic prowess in the village is Pesta, but she only makes potions! They’ve never seen anything like what you can do! _I’ve_ never seen anything like what you can do!”

He kept his sight on the children as he responded, “Well, I can’t say I’m shocked. This place is very uninteresting.”

She teased, “For an uninteresting place, you seem to be having fun.”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “You couldn’t be more wrong. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m here because of your persistence.”

“True, but the deal was that you’d stay for ten minutes. Remember?”

“Of course I remember,” he lied.

“And yet you’ve willingly stayed for over half an hour.” He looked to Sigyn to see her smiling up at him. “There’s no shame in admitting you enjoyed yourself.”

In spite of himself, Loki returned her smile. “Maybe I’ve been a little entertained…”

“I’ll take it.” She paused before saying, “Thank you, though, for answering their questions and showing them magic.”

His ego wanted to say something along the lines of, “You should thank me” or “Anything to get you off my back,” but he felt himself acknowledge her appreciation with a nod.

Their conversation was interrupted when Ulf, the boy who asked about varulven in the first place, exclaimed, “Bragi!”

Loki and Sigyn watched as Ulf ran towards two figures emerging into the clearing. One Loki recognized as Hymir the giant, who had helped construct the funeral boats. He wasn’t as tall as the dwarves on Nidavellir, but was noticeably taller than the average frost giant. His black, curly hair was cut short, but his beard was long and in a single braid. Loki noted with some smugness that the braid wasn’t as intricate as his own.

The person next to him was an Asgardian adolescent. One moment, Loki thought his hair was blond, the next he was sure it was brown. As Ulf leapt into Bragi’s open arms, he noticed how similar their facial features were. He deduced that they must be brothers.

As Bragi set him down, Ulf excitedly announced, “Varulven used to be real! But it’s okay, because they were actually good guys!”

Both Hymir and Bragi gave Loki and Sigyn a quizzical look. Loki winked while Sigyn made the less subtle gesture of putting a finger to her lips.

Bragi seemed to get the hint. “That’s very interesting.”

As Ulf began recounting all that Loki had said and done, Sigyn explained to him. “Bragi is Ulf’s older brother. He’s best known for his poetry and talent for music.” As Hymir left the brothers and approached Loki and Sigyn, she added, “And you’ve already met Hymir.”

Hymir gave a jolly laugh straight from the gut. “That he has. Though I reckon we said no more than two words to each other. Sigyn, Bragi wanted to speak to you. Something about lending him a book.”

“I’ll be right back,” she said before heading to Bragi.

Hymir clapped Loki on the upper back, causing him to stumble. “Good to see you out and about! Some of us began wondering if the fall was doing you in after all.”

He politely replied as he straightened himself up, “No, I’m quite alright. Just busy.”

“Busy?” he inquired with genuine interest.

“I won’t be able to get off this planet lounging around.”

“We’re not up your alley, eh? I don’t know what to tell you other than good luck, so good luck. What do you reckon you’ll do until you leave?”

“I’ve been spending my days searching for a way to Earth.”

Hymir shook his head. “No, I get that. What do you plan to do as far as work? Will you be teaching with Sigyn?”

Loki couldn’t say he’d given any thought to working. As far as he was concerned, he was a guest and would be leaving soon. “No, I don’t see myself doing any manual labor.”

“Really?” Hymir said, slightly puzzled, “Then how will you earn your keep?”

“Earn my keep?”

“Except for the little ones, everyone has to pull their weight here.”

“I don’t plan on staying long. And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m a prince.”

“Not of Mannelig,” he pointed out.

While Hymir didn’t mean it as an insult, Loki still felt the jab nevertheless. He was tempted to explode at this giant for daring to suggest that he, a sophisticated noble and warrior, reduce himself to a task suited for commoners. With barely checked anger, he asked, “And just what would you have me do?”

“I could always use some help with the oxen. Bragi’s a good kid, but his head’s always in the clouds. That boy’s more focused on writing songs than he his tending to the herd.”

He didn’t hide his contempt. “I’ll have to refuse your offer. Thanks.”

Hymir looked stunned by Loki’s tone. “It… it was just a suggestion. No need to get all… uppity.”

Sigyn returned. “What did I miss?”

Loki simply turned away and headed for Sigyn’s house. “I’ll be off now. I’ll see you soon, Sigyn.”

Before he was out of earshot, he heard Hymir defend himself. “Don’t look at me! I only suggested that he get a job!”

* * *

It was night by the time Loki had finished reading another book. Frustrated by the lack of answers, he tossed the book beside him on Sigyn’s couch and his temporary bed. Ever since his little chat with Hymir, his need to get off Gangalo grew stronger. How ironic it was that he had agreed to see the children in the hopes of interacting with adults, yet it was the children’s company he ended up preferring.

The front door opened and Sigyn stepped inside. Upon seeing him, she happily commented, “You still have the braid.”

Loki shrugged before laying on his back and venting, “The nerve of that giant oaf… What makes him think that I would even consider herding oxen?! If this is how Mannelig treats its guests, I have half a mind to stay somewhere else until I get off this wretched planet!”

“And go where?” she asked. Her tone of voice suggested it wasn’t a rhetorical question, but one she expected an answer to.

“Somewhere they know how to treat royalty!”

He felt rather than saw her sit on the edge of the couch. “I think I understand why you’re upset, but there’s two things you’re not taking into account.”

He sarcastically muttered, “Enlighten me.”

“First, in his eyes, Hymir did treat you like royalty.”

“Don’t make me laugh...”

“I’m serious, Loki. Hymir knows virtually nothing about Asgard or other cultures outside of Mannelig and his childhood home. He grew up in the kingdom of Utgard. His concept of royal propriety is different than yours.”

Loki sat up. “Care to elaborate?”

“Utgardian giants don’t treat their rulers very differently than anyone else. Their king lives a life of luxury, but no one bows or stands when he enters a room. He’s treated more like… an esteemed member of the community. That’s the only royalty Hymir knows. Royalty that _does_ do manual labor from time to time. Royalty whose special treatment is nonexistent compared to yours.”

He huffed, still feeling insulted. “And no one in Mannelig bothered to teach him?”

“Why would we? The closest person we have to a leader is Pesta, and the chances of him meeting any sort of noble were practically zero until you came along.”

He wanted to stay angry. He really did, but Sigyn’s explanation was sound. To hold any slights against Hymir for his behavior would be irrational. Little by little, he felt his ire toward him slip away. He calmly asked, “And the second thing?”

Sigyn appeared to be considering her words. “The longer you stay here, the less of a guest you’ll be. Like it or not, Mannelig is your home for the time being. Once you’re more solidified in our society, people will expect you to contribute.”

“Even if such labor is beneath me?”

She squinted at him in confusion and offense. “Even if-? Why would manual labor be beneath you?”

He replied, “I am the son of a king, fated to rule over others. Simple, grueling tasks are not my destiny.”

“So physical work is beneath you… because of who your parents are?”

He spoke as if the answer was obvious, “Well… yes.”

She thought for a moment before redirecting the conversation. “Let’s think for a moment. What do you like to do besides read books and stab trees?”

Loki didn’t take the question seriously. “I also stab books I don’t like.”

She ignored him. “Have you ever gardened?”

“It’s not a favorite activity of mine.”

“Alright. Do you like horses?”

“Spending time with them? Yes. Taking care of them? Not in the least.”

“You obviously enjoy magic. Would you enjoy teaching it?”

As interesting as that idea sounded, Loki could see major flaws with it. “The magic I use takes years of disciplined training to learn. I’ll be off this planet before anyone makes visible progress.”

“That’s fair.” She stood up. “If you end up staying long enough, we’ll think of something for you to do.” She gestured to the stray book on the couch. “Your first job can be to put that away.”

As she went to her bedroom, Loki picked up the book and took it to the shelf he got it from. Already, he was looking for a new book to try.

Sigyn called from the other room, “Do you like curds and whey?”

He called back as he continued to scan the books, “I tolerate it.”

Loki came across a brown, leather book that didn’t have a title on the spine. Curious, he took it off the shelf and searched for the title on the cover. There wasn’t even so much as a design on the front or back, which while not unusual, piqued his interest. He flipped the front cover only to be met with a sketch of a woman from the chest up.

At first glance, he thought it was a portrait of Sigyn, but there were noticeable differences in the nose, jawline, and eyes. The drawing was in black and white, but the light hair suggested the woman was blonde. She wasn’t smiling, but nothing suggested that she was anything other than kind. She wore a flower crown and was surrounded by different kinds of flowers. Loki felt like he was looking at a forest spirit, but the sketch was signed as, “Self-Portrait.”

He turned the page to see what other secrets this book held. The page on the left simply had sketches of birds, but the right page had another detailed black and white drawing. It was a little girl sitting on the grass, admiring one of the mushrooms surrounding her. The artist had managed to capture the childlike innocence of the girl, as if she was enchanted by her environment. Oddly enough, this girl looked very familiar, but Loki was certain she wasn’t one of the children in the clearing today.

It took him longer to find the title, but it put all of the pieces together. He mumbled it aloud, “Sigyn, My Pride and Joy.”

He turned the page, but both pages were simply plants, small animals, and a bonfire. While still impressed, he skipped to the next page. The left page showed a man and a woman, each with an arm around the other as they stared back at Loki. He immediately recognized the woman from the self-portrait, who he assumed was Sigyn’s mother. She wasn’t wearing the flower crown this time, but the missing item didn’t affect her beauty. The man was over a head taller than her and held a sword in the hand that wasn’t embracing her. His long hair was shaded, but it wasn’t dark enough to suggest that it was black or dark brown. If Loki had to guess, he’d say it was red. He had a beard, but it was a simple five o’clock shadow. Nothing elaborate.

The sketch didn’t have a title, but its neighbor did. “Iwaldi’s Daughter.” The man in the former drawing was sitting on a wooden chair, his gaze stuck on the burning fireplace. He held a sleeping child, Sigyn, on his lap as she slept. Her cheek rested on his chest as she dreamt away. Loki tried to remember the last time his father had held him as he slept, or even when he last sat on his lap. He felt like it had happened, but the memories were too blurred to grab hold of.

He had enough time to turn the page before the adult Sigyn reappeared from her bedroom. “You know, I explained your reaction to Hymir after you left and…”

She trailed off as she noticed the book in Loki’s hands. He froze, feeling like he had been caught red-handed. All he could do was wait for her to react and mentally prepare to defend his actions.

Luckily, she didn’t seem to have any negative feelings about his snooping. “I see you found my mother’s sketchbook.”

He glanced at the drawing of little Sigyn and a boy flying kites before complimenting, “Your mother is a very talented artist.”

She beamed as if he had praised her directly. “Thank you. She always adored drawing and painting during her free time. She especially liked to draw nature and my father and me. Do you mind if I look through the book with you? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it.”

“I don’t see how I could refuse if I wanted.” The two sat side-by-side on the couch. “I just got to the part with you and… your brother?”

The boy flying the kite with Sigyn looked blond as well. His hair was short, but his straight hair suddenly turned into curls at the ends. Loki could see them being related, though he wasn’t sure why he wasn’t drawn earlier in the book.

She smiled. “That’s Sigurd. We’ve been friends for as long as we can both remember. He’s like a brother to me.”

“Then how come I’ve never met him?”

“He lives in Thjod with his family. The fastest way to get there is by riding Jormungandr, and even that takes over a day. We mostly correspond through letters, though we try to visit each other as often as possible. I last saw them a few months ago because he and his wife had their second child.”

Loki pointed to the old man on the next page. He was bald with a long beard and slightly hunched. “And who’s this?”

“That’s Sigurd’s adoptive father, Regin. Sigurd never knew his birth parents, so Regin’s the closest thing he’s ever had to a father. Him and my own father, anyway. He’s also the best blacksmith I know. His masterpiece is the sword he gifted Sigurd during his wedding. He calls it…” She slightly groaned before revealing the name, “Gram.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Gram? That’s a silly name.”

“That’s what I said!”

They spent the next hour looking through the book. Sigyn had an explanation for every pose, every landscape, and even some seemingly random flowers and animals. The pride she had in her mother’s gift made itself evident in her voice. While the experience made Loki feel relaxed and oddly at home, there was also this sense of doom that tickled the back of his head as they neared the end. It didn’t escape his notice that Sigyn only referred to her parents in the past tense.

As she rose to put the book away, he debated whether or not to ruin her good mood to sate his curiosity. She must’ve sensed something was off with him. “Loki?”

He asked, voice gentle. “Where’s your mother now?”

Her mood wasn’t ruined entirely, but she did grow more sullen as she went to the bookshelf. “She died not long after she finished the sketchbook. It was… very unexpected.”

“What happened if you don’t mind me asking?”

She sat back down next to him. “At first, we thought it was just a small illness. She was still able to draw, work, play, but then… She woke up unable to do anything. Just breathing was a struggle for her. Pesta can work miracles, but even she can only do so much. She gave my father two choices: go to Thjod and buy the antidote or gather the ingredients so that she could make the potion herself. Both would’ve taken days… and my mother knew she didn’t have long. My father was willing to do either, but she begged him to stay with her for the time she had left. Many people will tell you that Iwaldi was never able to say no to Mardoll.”

“Surely someone else could’ve made the trip.”

“Several people did actually. She passed before even one ingredient found its way to Pesta.” She leaned against the back of the couch. “My father was lost ever since. Especially when it came to raising me.”

“How so?” he pressed.

“It’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

She seemed surprised by the response, but told her tale anyway. “My parents never had the best of luck when it came to having children. I was the only one they were able to have. As a result, my father was never able to have the son he wanted. Don’t misunderstand. He loved me more than anything and was good to me, but he was ill prepared to raise a daughter. He had to follow my mother’s lead for a lot of things. When she died, there was no one to give him realistic expectations, and he was absolutely clueless. One minute he’d be teaching me how to use a sword, the next he’d insist I had no business using it in battle. Sometimes he’d praise my independent nature, but then he’d lecture me about finding a husband. He was much better with Sigurd. He took it upon himself to teach him everything he knew about fighting, and they bonded in ways that my father and I were never able to. He had hoped beyond hope that Sigurd and I would get married someday. Not only would it make Sigurd his son-in-law, but he thought it would secure my own happiness.”

Loki thought back to the sketches of them he saw. “The two of you did look happy together. A romance wouldn’t have been entirely unexpected.”

“Sigurd and I saw each other as brother and sister. Any thought of courting was pushed aside by feelings of disgust. I tried explaining this to my father, but it wasn’t until Sigurd fell madly in love with Gudrun that my father realized a romantic relationship wasn’t going to happen between us.”

“How’d he take it?”

“With begrudging acceptance. He still thought me getting married was for the best, so he’d subtly try and play matchmaker between me and any man he saw fit. Then there was what happened with Theoric.” She exhaled through her nose like a mad bull at the memory, but grew dejected almost instantly.

“I take it you didn’t like this Theoric.”

“He himself was fine. Not my favorite person, but not awful. He was a travelling merchant visiting Mannelig for a few weeks and I somehow got his attention. We talked from time to time, but it became clear to me that our philosophies were too different. He wanted a wife. I wanted a soulmate. One day, he asked me to marry him out of nowhere. When I rejected him, he was possibly more shocked than I was when he proposed in the first place. Apparently, my father had guaranteed him that I would say yes. I confronted my father, and we got into an argument.”

Loki held up his hand, wanting to clarify the information that came out of leftfield. “Just a moment. You’re telling me… your father wanted you to marry a man you had no interest in… and who he himself had only known for a few weeks?”

“He believed it was vital that I settle down soon. He thought we were on the same page, hence why he told Theoric I would accept his proposal.”

“That’s idiotic.”

She laughed a little at his comment. “He’d be the first to admit that he’s not the brightest.” Her downcast mood returned. “I still get angry about it from time to time, but I’ve forgiven him overall. I just wish I had forgiven him before he died. About a decade ago, he was severely injured in a troll attack. I was able to keep him from getting killed or taken, but he died from his wounds the following morning. It… never occurred to me to tell him that I forgave him. I suppose… I was too focused on… willing him to stay alive.”

Silence followed as Loki took in everything Sigyn had just told him. There were some points that he could connect with. He had always been close to Frigga, whereas Odin had a much better relationship with Thor. He wondered if Sigyn ever felt jealous of Sigurd’s relationship with her father like he had been. The way she talked about him didn’t suggest it, but there must’ve been some feelings of animosity. Loki and Thor were on much better terms than they had been, but he still felt envious on occasion.

Then there was how her father handled Theoric. As the less muscular second in line, Loki hadn’t been as big of a prize as Thor, but women had been interested in him. Any courtship he and Thor had was heavily scrutinized by both of their parents. Not because they wanted to be sure these girls were worthy of princes, but worthy of their sons. If Loki proposed to a girl mere weeks after meeting her, neither of his parents would’ve approved. To hear that Sigyn’s father encouraged the match was very unsettling and even frightening. Mere weeks wasn’t enough time to understand a man’s intentions.

Putting a smile back on her face, Sigyn, smacked her thigh and stood. “Well, dinner’s not going to make itself. We should eat before we get too tired.” Loki continued to ponder her past, trying to see how it shaped her present. However, she misinterpreted his silence. “Would you rather I end this on a happier note?”

“If you desire.”

“Sometimes, I would watch my mother draw. It was always peaceful yet enchanting seeing her make art. I used to lament on how I couldn’t make anything as beautiful as hers. She’d give me practical advice and insist that I only needed practice, but she’d also say, ‘My Joy, if I find a way, I will give you some of my talent.’ The day we buried her, I was suddenly so much better at painting and drawing. Perhaps there’s a more rational explanation, but I like to think she found a way to gift me her talent upon entering Valhalla.”

She had made it to the cabinets holding the food by the time Loki found his voice. “A couple things.”

Sigyn turned to face him. “Yes?”

“I normally don’t make a habit speaking ill of the dead, but I don’t think I would’ve liked your father.”

She chuckled. “Don’t worry. He wouldn’t have liked you either.”

“I’m a delight.”

“You’re also difficult,” she joked. “What else?”

“I’ve never seen any of your artwork, but I think your mother did find a way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments!


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